Burnt Turkey
by zephyrocity
Summary: What are women good for? When Sesshoumaru asks the age-old question, Sango races to respond… with a list of embarrassingly sexist answers. An ancient and unintentionally hilarious piece of preteen drama by yours truly.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own InuYasha.  
**Summary:** Sango messes up on dinner, and Sesshoumaru angrily complains, "What are women good for?" Sango gets understandably annoyed and Sesshoumaru eventually relents, doing something that Sango would never have suspected of him…

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**burnt turkey**

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"What's _that_?!" Sesshoumaru exclaimed in horror as his girlfriend of three years set a grimy platter down on the dining table before him. What was supposed to be his food was burned black, and might as well have been a pile of ash. 

Sango blushed. "Dinner."

"Dinner," Sesshoumaru repeated incredulously, throwing the young woman a skeptical glance and pushing the plate away from him.

"Turkey," Sango muttered, staring at her toes. "I'm sorry, Sesshy."

"I hate it when you call me that," Sesshoumaru grumbled, his bad mood getting steadily worse.

"I'm sorry," she repeated.

"Sango," he groaned, refusing to let it go as he sat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Where did I get the idea that you could cook?"

"Please," Sango said, rather sharply. She walked out of the dining room and into the kitchen of their small apartment. Moments later, her voice floated back, saying, "I'll order some take out from Kouga's Grill." A series of beeps followed, and then Sango said cheerfully, "Hello, this is—hi, Kouga!"

Sesshoumaru's brow furrowed slightly.

There was a pause. "Yeah, I messed up dinner," he heard Sango say. Another pause, and the young woman chuckled. "Shut up, you." She laughed again and continued, "Anyway, we'll have two…"

Sesshoumaru stopped listening after that and resumed his pointless complaining. "Can't even cook a simple meal… how stupid—" He stopped himself there; his mind was not on the dinner. Truly, his thoughts were on the man Sango was talking to. Even now, he could picture her, all wrapped up in the phone cord, twirling part of it around her finger while she chatted merrily.

Kouga—

Her ex.

Sesshoumaru hated him.

"I _despise_ him," Sesshoumaru hissed, remembering one time when he and Sango had been roommates.

¤

_Ding-dong._

Sango, looking slightly younger and less weary, rushed to the door and threw it open.

"Hey, babe." Kouga lounged against the doorframe, smirking confidently. Without any further hesitation, he swept her back in a passionate kiss, one had on the small of her back to keep her upright. They soon broke apart for lack of air and he grinned at her. "Ready?"

From his laptop, Sesshoumaru scowled at them jealously.

Sango fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Do you like my outfit?" she giggled, doing a girlish twirl.

Sesshoumaru glared. He hated having Kouga here—it made Sango act nothing like her usual self. She acted delicate, pompous, and far too girly for the silver-haired young man's liking.

"It's gorgeous… just like you," Kouga replied smoothly, kissing her again.

Before he could stop himself, Sesshoumaru let out a guttural growl, and both turned to face him.

"You okay, Sess?" Sango asked, obviously concerned for his welfare and, as always, completely oblivious of his feelings.

He had responded with a low, angry, "Fine."

¤

Sesshoumaru shook his head to clear his mind of the memory, and focused on Sango, who had returned. His dazed, nostalgic expression disappeared and was replaced with the same annoyed scowl that he had worn when she called him 'Sesshy'.

"Oh, come on, Sess," Sango groaned, dropping into a chair beside him. "You can't still be mad."

'Sess' was an old nickname. He didn't mind it. 'Sess' came long before Kouga, when Sesshoumaru was first starting to feel the very first symptoms of his attraction to Sango.

"It was disgusting."

"You didn't even try it!" Sango snapped. But then her shoulders sagged, and she admitted, "Yeah, it was." The young woman glanced up at him, an earnest expression playing over her pretty features. "But I tried, Sess. And that's what matters, right?"

"I'm never allowing you in the kitchen again."

Both in the room knew that was something Sesshoumaru's younger brother InuYasha might say. And he would mean it the same way: partly a reluctant joke, and partly a sincere remark.

"Sesshoumaru!" Sango sighed exasperatedly. "Can't you just let it go?"

Sesshoumaru suddenly wanted her to be quiet. He massaged his temples and closed his eyes, waving one hand at her dismissively. "Be silent, Sango."

His girlfriend frowned at him. "Quit being such a jerk."

Sesshoumaru's impatience and irritation mounted further. He was on the verge of snapping 'Hush,' but decided on an unfair remark said under his breath: "Quit being such a woman."

Sango's scowl deepened. "Ex_cuse_ me?" she asked sharply.

"I don't know why I asked you out in the first place," Sesshoumaru said conversationally, too annoyed to notice what he was really saying.

Surprised tears sprung into Sango's cinnamon eyes. "Wh-what?" she sputtered in disbelief, wiping at her damp face and shooting ungainly to her feet. "Sesshoumaru, how… how can you say that?"

Sesshoumaru felt an unfamiliar pang of guilt when he saw Sango's tears, and another when he heard how broken she sounded. But something strange had possessed him, and convinced him to continue still.

"What _are_ women good for, anyway?"

Sango had been walking toward the door with her head bowed, but at this her head shot up and she spun around. Her tears were gone, replaced by disbelieving anger. "What are women good for?" she repeated slowly. She stormed up to him, and shouted, "You jerk! I'll tell you!"

Sesshoumaru took a step back and raised an eyebrow challengingly.

Big mistake.

She screamed in frustration and, n a flash of slender fingers, slapped him hard across the face.

He staggered back, staring down at her in shock, one hand rising to feel the weal on his cheek. His eyes were wide, searching her angry face for signs of regret—but there was none, simply fury. But then disbelief gave away to anger, and he straightened up, snarling, "How dare you strike me!"

"Shut up!" Sango snapped. "I'm not going to take this anymore!" Her usually composed face was distorted by rage, and she snapped, "Women are good at… at cleaning, and cooking—"

"With the exception of you, of course," Sesshoumaru said silkily.

Sango's face flamed. "And drawing," she continued, "and writing and smiling and comforting and… and," she paused, "and making babies, and dumping horrible guys like you!"

Sesshoumaru was, well, to say the least, shocked. She had only grazed the tip of what women were good for, and yet she had said so much. Some of the things that she named she probably wanted, or wanted to be good at, like drawing (she couldn't draw for her life) and cleaning (she simple _couldn't_ clean).

_Making babies,_ he thought of her words, and smirked. _She wants a baby?_

"I'm going to Kouga's." Though still furious, her voice quivered, and broke Sesshoumaru's thoughts.

"What? Kouga's?" he repeated dumbly.

"You heard me," Sango growled. She started toward the door, but Sesshoumaru lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, trying to pull away to no avail.

Her struggling abruptly ceased when his arms tightened around her and he put his chin on the top of her head, the silence nearly soothing. When everything had calmed, Sesshoumaru lightened his grip and pulled back a little, using the hand that wasn't wrapped around her waist to tip her chin up.

"Hmm," he whispered softly, his eyes flitting from confused brown orbs to her mouth. "I know something else women are good for."

Sango's eyes narrowed. "Oh, do you?" she said. "Look, Sesshoummphf!"

Her voice was then silenced when Sesshoumaru kissed her passionately. Suppressing an exasperated sigh, she reached up to twine her arms around his neck, and then felt him smile and whisper against her lips:

"They're great kissers."

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**fin.**

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**Author's Notes:** One click of that "review" button won't cost you all that much. 


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